Romeo's Folly
by evieeden
Summary: Romeo made so many mistakes, but can Bella and Edward avoid the pitfalls of the past? Birthday fic written for BurdenedThunder.


**This fic has been written to say happy birthday to the gorgeous BurdenedThunder. It was supposed to be fluffy, but unfortunately it's got angst in it too. Have a great day.**

**Thanks to latessitrice for the super-fast emergency beta job. As always I own nothing.**

**Romeo's Folly**

**BPOV**

We sat together in English class. Mr Berty had given up on trying to drill sixteenth-century prose into our heads and had decided that our class would be much more receptive to the intricacies of Romeo and Juliet if it was presented to us in movie form.

Edward and I had taken advantage of the darkened room and our desk at the back of the room, and slid our seats together, clasping each other's hands under the table.

It was a very different experience from the first time we had sat in a dimmed classroom, fighting the urge to touch each other. Now, I could contentedly lean against his body, revelling in being close to him.

Up in the front of the classroom, Romeo was bemoaning his beloved Juliet's death, vial of poison in hand. I sniffled lightly, trying to hide my distress at the scene from Edward, even though I knew he would be able to tell that I was upset. Sure enough, he nudged my shoulder with his own, squeezing my hand and offering a soft smile. We had watched this film or at least variations of it hundreds of times. I always cried, and he was always there to offer me comfort, no matter how ridiculous he thought it was.

On screen, Romeo was giving his parting speech, any minute now about to kill himself.

"I've never had much patience for Romeo," Edward murmured in my ear and I tilted towards him curiously.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, gearing up to defend my favourite literary hero.

"Well, look at him." He gestured towards the screen with his spare hand. "He kills himself and the woman he loves out of sheer stupidity."

"It was circumstance working against them," I argued. "If he had known that Juliet wasn't really dead, then he never would've drunk the poison."

"And Juliet would never have stabbed herself," he mused. "Mistake after mistake leaving despair and destruction in his wake."

I was surprised to hear him say these things. He had never brought it up in the past when we had watched this.

"I never knew you bore such a grudge against him," I commented.

Edward smiled ruefully and then shrugged. "Maybe I'm being too harsh. Maybe I'm just envious of him."

My gaze shot from Edward to the on-screen actor and back again. Edward was envious of Romeo?

The camera zoomed in to the still, pale figure of Juliet and I swallowed against the bitterness and insecurity that threatened to rise. "Juliet is very beautiful," I choked out.

Edward laughed softly against my ear and raised my hand quickly to press a kiss against it, before hiding our entwined fingers under the table again.

"I don't envy him the girl. There's no-one more beautiful to me than you."

I rolled my eyes at his passionate declaration but secretly I was pleased. If I could be enough for Edward, then I would be happy.

"No, definitely not the girl. I envy him the...uh... the suicide. Romeo had it so easy, one swig of a vial of plants extracts and it's all over for him. It's the same for all humans, not necessarily poison, but other means, like Juliet's dagger to the heart – it's just so easy for you."

I was horrified. "Why are you talking like this?"

"Because I considered it once." He looked so calm as he talked about killing himself. "Back in Phoenix, when you left to face..." His face cut off abruptly as he almost choked on his words. "I didn't know when I was going to find you...if I was going to find you in time," he corrected. "But I already knew that if I was too late, if I couldn't save you and you were...lost... to me, that I wouldn't be able to live without you. So I made plans."

I could see the pain on his face as his memory took him back to that fraught day back in Spring, and my hand unthinkingly rose up to stroke reassuringly at his cheek.

"I had to make contingency plans, for what I would do if we didn't reach you in time."

I felt woozy suddenly by Edward talking like this. I couldn't imagine him dead, didn't want to imagine him dead, didn't want him to be saying these things. "Contingency plans?" I managed to croak out.

Edward, however, seemed completely unconcerned by what he was saying – like it was perfectly reasonable for him to be talking about killing himself if I was dead. "Well yes. I knew that Emmett and Jasper would never agree to helping me, so the only other option would have been to find some way to provoke the Volturi into killing me instead."

I didn't know who or what the Volturi were, but if they could bring death to Edward then I wanted him to stay as far away from them as possible.

A wail from the school's VCR alerted me to the fact that Juliet had just woken up from her sleep and discovered Romeo's body next to her. I watched, increasingly sickened, as I thought about what could have happened if Edward had assumed that James had killed me in that ballet studio and had himself murdered by these Volturi – when all the while I had been waiting and praying for him to save me.

It would be as if I was dead too.

Edward could sympathise with Romeo's suicide; I could sympathise with Juliet's.

"But what about that," I whispered angrily, pointing at the screen. "What if you killed yourself under some misguided notion that I was dead? Do you really think that I wouldn't follow in Juliet's footsteps?"

Edward gripped my hand tighter – a little bit too tightly actually – and I tapped his hand to get him to loosen it a bit. When I looked up at him I was greeted by black eyes and a furiously sorrowful expression. Ignoring the fact that we were in a classroom, he wrapped his arm across my shoulders, hugging me to him.

"You can't do that," he rasped. "Not over me. I wouldn't let you."

"You wouldn't be there to stop me," I countered.

His face contracted in pain, as if he was being tortured. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, before leaning in closer towards me. I took advantage and breathed in his sweet scent, grounding myself with this evidence of his presence with me. I hated all this talk of him being gone; I didn't even know how we had wandered so far from our original conversation.

Edward's voice when he next spoke was urgent, persuasive. "You have to promise me, Bella, that if anything ever happens to me... You have to promise that you won't hurt yourself. You need to promise me, Bella."

I stared into his worried eyes, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Alright." I could see the tenseness of his body disappear as I agreed.

"On one condition."

I wasn't just going to promise something like this without my own guarantee. Edward was searching my face desperately.

"Anything you want," he vowed.

"You need to promise me the same. That you won't go and see these Volturi or whoever if I die. Don't... don't kill yourself over me, please."

"Bella." He turned to face me, clasping both my hands in his. I shot a glance towards the front of the class but no-one was paying attention to us. "I can't do that. You have to understand, now that I've found you, I just can't lose you. I can't ever lose you."

"And you won't," I assured him. "But I can't stand the thought of you hurting yourself. You can't ever do that, Edward!"

He began to protest, "Bella –," but I stopped him.

"Promise me, you won't hurt yourself, Edward," I demanded.

He struggled with the words. "I can't," he finally settled for.

I scowled at him, upset that he would made me promise such a thing only to not be able to fulfil the vow himself. Shaking my hands, I loosened his grasp on me, sitting back on my side of the table just as the last line of the play was spoken.

"_Never was there a story of more woe, than that of Juliet and her Romeo."_

"Bella," Edward tried to get my attention, but I ignored him. It was just as well that I did, for at that moment, Mr Berty flicked the lights in the classroom back on, startling the other students back into awareness. I could only imagine what he would've thought if he had looked across to where Edward and I were sitting only five minutes earlier.

The bell rang shortly after and I stomped out to my truck, ignoring Edward skulking behind me and the pleading look that I knew would be on his face. Typical to form, he reached for the door to the cab before I could get there and held it open for me. I shot him a glare as I climbed inside, not bothering to turn the gas on.

"Bella, what's wrong?"

My mouth fell open and I half-laughed incredulously at his question. "What's wrong? What's wrong?" I finally abandoned all sense of composure and began yelling at him. "What's wrong is that you think you can ask me to not hurt myself if you're ever not here, and yet you can't make the same promise to me. How dare you?"

I was shaking with repressed rage now, tears streaming freely down my face.

"Bella," Edward reached towards me and then thought better of it. "I can't bear the thought of you hurting yourself..."

"Well why can't you accept that I feel the same way, Edward? Why do you always doubt me?"

"I don't," he swore.

"Yes, you do." My anger vanished as fast as it had appeared and I was left feeling drained. "You just don't seem to believe that I could ever feel as strongly for you as you claim to feel for me."

"And now you're doubting me," he remarked sadly.

We sat silently in my truck as the parade of students' cars left the lot one by one. I was too upset to even think of driving at the moment.

I was a little bit surprised that Edward wasn't trying to break the silence but realised that as far as he was concerned, he had made up his mind. If I died, then he was going to follow me as quickly as possible after and nothing I could say or do now would change his mind.

"You know, for someone who doesn't think much of Romeo, you really are acting like him – killing yourself when I die, making all the same mistakes."

Edward didn't show his surprise at my snapped comment, but he finally reached out to touch me, cradling my face in his hands. "Leaving this world when you're gone from it wouldn't be a mistake, Bella."

I shook my head angrily but couldn't dislodge his firm touch – if I was really honest with myself, I didn't put that much effort in.

In the meantime I hit back with the only argument I could think of. "Well what if you only thought I was dead and you killed yourself and left me alone in this world. That would be a mistake worthy of Romeo."

"Bella," Edward now seemed almost amused, "that's not really likely to happen is it."

"Then promise me it," I dared him. "If you really think it's that stupid you won't have any problem. Promise me that you won't make Romeo's mistake, that if you think I'm dead, you won't just rely on hearsay and assumption. You have to promise to make absolutely certain that you won't leave me alone. I couldn't bear it."

Edward smiled at me and nodded, leaning forward to brush his lips against mine. "I think you're being adorably ridiculous, but alright. I promise to never leave you alone in this world. As long as you're here, so will I be."

"You promise?" I held him to me.

"I promise," he repeated.

A week later he was gone, as if he had never existed.

And my heart shattered.

...

The flight was from Seattle, but I was praying with Alice's speeding that we would make it there within an hour to make our connecting flight to New York.

I couldn't believe what was happening; it was all just too much for my mind to handle in such a short space of time.

I shot a quick glance towards the vampire who sat beside me, hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel, eyes looking straight ahead and yet not on the road. Her lashes flickered quickly as her pupils darted about, and I could tell that she was lost in the future, trying to work out Edward's next move.

I didn't know what he was thinking.

He had talked about killing himself before, if anything had ever happened to me, and I knew that Rosalie had told him that I was dead. I just couldn't understand why it mattered to him anymore. He had left me; he didn't want me any longer.

Why would it matter so much to him if I was dead?

I could understand him maybe being a bit sad, or at least I hoped he would be, but to feel enough grief to kill himself...?

I knew what this was of course. He had made me promise not to do anything stupid, not to hurt myself. Now that he thought that I had, that I had jumped off that cliff to kill myself, he was feeling guilt.

That's all it was. That's all it could be.

I was thrown to one side as we turned a sharp corner far too quickly and I grabbed the door handle, using it to regain my balance. My legs were nervously jumping around as I stomped down on an imaginary accelerator, willing the car to go faster, even though I was pretty certain that Alice was already pushing the vehicle to the limit.

"How much longer, Alice?" I broke our silence, unable to stand it anymore, needing to know what was going on, what she was seeing.

"Half an hour until we get to the airport and then twenty minutes until our flight boards," she reassured me. "We'll make it in time."

I was also afraid to ask the next question. "And what about... Edward?"

Alice turned to face me, taking in my tear-streaked face and my nervous wringing of my hands. Sighing, she patted my shoulder. "I don't know yet. He hasn't decided exactly how he's going to ask for his death, or made any plans yet. He's not there yet either, so we've got time."

I nodded, wanting to have faith but struggling not to think of what was going to happen if we failed.

Edward would be dead. Hell, Alice and I might be dead as well, especially if we were caught by these Volturi and seen as conspirators. I didn't mind so much for myself, but I hated the thought of anything happening to Alice – she didn't deserve to be dragged into this mess created by Edward and I.

Alice went back to flicking through the future and I went back to chewing my lip raw and scratching at my hands. I couldn't sit still, as hard as I tried, the tension was almost unbearable. I envied Alice her ability to sit perfectly still at that moment – able to give the appearance of calm even if she wasn't feeling it.

Ten more minutes sped by without any change of scenery to indicate that we had gotten any closer to Seattle and our route to Edward. My anxiety grew with every mile that passed.

Suddenly Alice slammed on the brakes, jerking the car to a halt and forcing me to raise my arms up to stop my head from slamming into the dashboard. The last thing I wanted to do was bleed in front of her.

"Alice..." I gasped. "What...?"

"What is he doing?" she was muttering, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "I don't understand what he's thinking."

It took me a second to realise that there was something going on with Edward. "What's happening, Alice? Is he there yet? Have they refused to help him?"

Her eyes darted around before she blinked slowly and then turned to look at me. "He's not going. Something's changed his mind and he's not on his way to Italy anymore; he's changed direction, got on a different plane. I don't understand."

"He's not going to hurt himself?" I questioned her frantically, praying that she would say no.

She shook her head sharply. "He hasn't decided yet...Or rather, he has decided to go to the Volturi, but he's changed direction."

I gripped her hand, willing her to tell me good news. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know." Alice was frowning, still lost in the pictures in her head. "There are two futures now though, and that's good."

I tried to decipher what that meant. "Two futures. So in one he goes to Italy and the Volturi kill him and in the second...?"

She reached over and restarted the engine that had stalled at her abrupt stop. "I don't know. That future is blurry, incomplete. I think there's another decision to be made there. He still doesn't want to live anymore, but there's something holding him back, a different circumstance that hasn't been decided on yet and only when that conflict is resolved will the decision remain clear."

I didn't get it. I understood what she was saying, but I couldn't work out that meant or what this other deciding factor was. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about, Alice."

"Well that's good," the car began moving again, "because I have no clue what Edward's doing. Going to Italy was a clear-cut decision he made based on your death; this...interference...I have no idea where it's coming from. He was so determined to go to Italy before that I can't imagine what's made him doubt his intentions."

"Maybe he finally realised how ridiculous he's being," I muttered, "killing himself over my alleged death. Maybe he finally realised that I'm not worth it, especially as he doesn't even love me anymore."

Alice glanced at me incredulously. "Is that what you think – that Edward doesn't love you anymore?"

"That's what I know," I corrected her. "He told me himself."

I couldn't be sure, but I thought that I heard Alice curse under her breath. I didn't know what she was so upset about; if Edward hadn't wanted to be with me, I was glad that I knew, rather than him staying with me out of obligation. It was for the best that I had no illusions about our relationship.

It really was. Honestly.

I was thrown abruptly to the side again as Alice spun the car into a U-turn and began to head back in the direction we had just come from.

"Alice!" I hissed. "What are you doing?"

I could see her roll her eyes. "Bella, Edward's not going to Italy anymore – or at least, not straight away – which means that we don't have to rush there ourselves, thank God. Hopefully this means I'll be able to get you back to Charlie in one piece."

"We're going home?" I asked. "Well, where's Edward going? You said he was still determined to kill himself, so why aren't we going to stop him?

"We are going to stop him, but we're not going to Seattle and then Italy to do it."

I was utterly confused and increasingly desperate. "Well, where's he going then? Where are we going to stop him? Alice..."

"Sea-Tac," she finally answered. "We're going to meet him there."

I fell back in my seat, one hand pressed to my heart. "He's coming back," I whispered.

Alice had a concerned look on her face now. "He's coming back," she confirmed. "But he still doesn't know that you're alive so I don't get why he chosen to return back here."

Edward was coming back. He was returning to Forks.

As we got closer, Alice began to warn me. "I don't know what changed his mind about going to Volterra, but he might change it back if he sees me waiting for him, especially if he then thinks that I'm lying about you being alive. That means you'll need to be the one that he's sees first; you'll need to be waiting for him inside the building. Once he sees and smells you, he won't be able to deny that you're alive and that'll be enough." She paused. "Hopefully that will be enough," she amended.

I shook my head but didn't say anything else. Neither of us knew what Edward was thinking; the only thing we could do was be there to meet him when he got back.

That was when my nerves really kicked in.

Edward was coming back. I was going to see him again. He was going to see _me_.

What if he didn't want to see me again though? He had left me before, not wanting to be around me anymore; I had no guarantee that he would want me to be the first person who met him off his plane.

"Oh stop it, Bella."

"What?" I turned to Alice.

"I can practically hear you thinking – all your doubts," she complained. "Of course he's going to want to see you, don't be stupid."

I knew she was wrong, but didn't think to correct her. Instead, I concentrated on how it would be for me to lay my eyes upon Edward. After months of living with his ghost and the shadow of his voice in my head, I wondered if his actual appearance would be too overwhelming for me – if I would be struck down by his beauty and dazzled into submission.

I was about to find out.

Alice parked outside the main entrance to the airport, blissfully ignoring the scowl that an airport attendant shot her. I gripped the edges of my seat, unable to move.

"Bella."

I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. My head began to feel fuzzy.

"Bella!" Alice reached across to shake me and I inhaled sharply. "Stop panicking and get in there."

My eyes swung wildly to hers and her gaze turned sympathetic. Reaching across, she pulled me into a hug.

"I know what this means to you, Bella," she whispered, "what you've been through since we've been away. But there's no need to be afraid. We'll still be here for you, no matter what happens. Edward will still be here – I doubt he could bear to stay away from you after this."

"But..." I began to protest, before she interrupted me.

"Bella, I don't know what Edward told you that day in the forest, for I know that it nearly killed him to walk away from you. Now, for whatever reason, he's chosen to come back here now that he's learned of your 'death.' He cares, Bella. Even if you don't believe me about anything else, believe that he cares."

She sat back into the driver's seat. "You need to go in, Bella. He changed over in Atlanta. His flight should be landing in five minutes. Remember, he thinks you're dead, Bella."

I nodded and practically fell out of the passenger seat, stumbling into the airport. I paced around the arrivals area, past the security barrier. I knew what I had to do. Just show Edward that I was alive, convince him that he didn't need to kill himself out of guilt, and then... what?

Let him move on with his life again? Go back to his family while I stayed here in Forks?

As much as those thoughts hurt, I knew that they were better than the alternative – Edward dead. Not just not with me, but not in the world at all.

I couldn't help the shaking that began.

My panic only increased as the call went out for the arrival of the Atlanta flight.

The passengers were beginning to emerge and...

There he was.

I saw him before he saw me and was utterly horrified by the state he was in.

My poor Edward.

He looked completely drained of life – his pale skin had taken on a sickly pallor, his cheeks were sunken in, making him look thinner, the usual light bruises under his eyes were now even darker, indicating that he hadn't been hunting or taking care of himself. His head was ducked down, his hair in its usual disarray. His shirt was ripped, a gaping hole visible over his heart and as he trudged forward; it was clear he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

As he moved, the flash of bare skin at his chest caught the fluorescent lights overhead, revealing several shiny streaks marring the flesh. I gasped as I realised the significance of those marks; I had my own scars that shone in the light – the result of exposure to venom.

Either someone had attacked Edward for him to have those marks or... he had tried to cut his own heart out.

"Oh Edward," I gasped, my hand flying up to cover my mouth. What had he done to himself?

I had forgotten about his sensitive hearing though, as his head shot up immediately after I spoke to myself, his eyes frantically scouring the front of the airport and then widening as they alighted on me.

He reeled back as if someone had hit him, stopping in his tracks. His lips moved and although I couldn't hear what it was he said, I knew that it was my name. He took one heavy step forwards, and then another.

I showed no such hesitation; his brilliance stirred me into action. I began to move, faster and faster, until I was full out running across the hall. I slammed into Edward at full-pace, the hardness of his body forcing the air out of me. Luckily he took several steps back, absorbing the weight of my body and making the impact softer than it would have been if he had remained still.

I heaved in the sweet smell of him, my arms tightly linked around his neck, not wanting to let him go, even though I knew I would have to step back any second. Edward halted my retreat though, locking his arms around my back and pressing me closer to him. He buried his face into my hair and inhaled in great gasps. I could hear him speaking quietly to himself, but it wasn't until he raised his voice a little that I could make out what he was saying.

"...oh God, Bella...you're alive...you're really alive...I couldn't believe, couldn't hope...can't believe you're here...love you so much..."

I swallowed back my tears at the last statement, convinced that I had heard him wrong. Hugging him closer for a minute, I then pulled back.

"Edward –."

He drew back too, but didn't let go of me, cupping my cheeks in his hands and staring hungrily at his face. "God, Bella." He blinked rapidly, his eyes bright, and I realised that he would be trying if he could. "You're alive. I thought you were dead; she told me you were. Yet here you are."

I couldn't help but want to sooth him, tracing his features with my fingers and brushing my thumbs over his cheekbones. "She got it wrong. Alice got it wrong and Rosalie got it wrong. I was never trying to kill myself; the visions were wrong."

"You were never dead. You were never gone," he choked. "Do you know the hell that I was in for all this time? I couldn't bear that you..."

He shook his head as if to clear himself of such thoughts and leaned in closer towards me. My eyes fluttered shut as his lips met mine. With that kiss, it was like the past melted away; all the hurt, all the pain and the tears I had cried were forgotten. I could barely remember what it felt like – the gaping hole in my chest – when he was gone. Touching him, kissing him like this, made it all melt away.

I was whole again, like I had never felt alone and abandoned in the first place.

We broke apart, both of us panting, probably making a spectacle of ourselves in front of everyone in the airport, but I didn't care.

"Edward..."

"Bella, I love you."

My eyes shot open.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be saying things like that when I don't know what... When you might have moved on, but... I love you. I have to tell you that."

"Edward," I choked out his name again, overwhelmed with emotion and the hope that maybe, just maybe, he meant what he said when he told me that he still loved me. I was so close to crying, my distress rising rapidly, and then I was angry, just absolutely furious at him for what he had put me through.

I slapped him, the sting of the impact with his face reverberating through my hand and up my arm. "What were you thinking?" I screeched.

Edward, a puzzled frown on his face took a step back.

"Running off to kill yourself just because you thought I was dead." The tears were streaming down my face now and I pounded against his chest ineffectually with my fists. "Do you have any idea what it would've done to me? We were going to come to Italy after you to try and make you see sense."

"What?" Edward was horrified. "Bella, you shouldn't have done that; the Volturi would have killed you."

"Like you were planning on having them kill you?" I confronted him.

"Bella, I..." He raised his hand towards my face again, but then thought better of it.

"You shouldn't have done it, Edward. You worried us all so much; you worried _me_ so much."

The discussion between Alice and I in the car floated forward in my mind again. "Why did you change direction?"

He searched my face. "Change direction?"

"Alice looked at your future. She said that you were still determined to kill yourself if I was dead. Going to Italy was the easiest way to do that, but then you changed direction and you came here. Why did you come here if you thought I was dead?"

Edward ducked his head, looking almost embarrassed. "Because I promised you."

I stared at him, and then blinked.

Edward seemed to take my silence as disbelief and rushed to explain myself. "I know it's stupid, but I kept thinking about last year, on your birthday, when we were sat in class talking about Romeo and Juliet and how he could have avoided killing himself and being responsible for her ultimate death if only he had avoided listening to hearsay. Afterwards, you made me promise that I would never do the same, never repeat his mistakes. That meant that I had to see..."

He paused and I could see him visibly composing himself before he spoke again. "I had to see you for myself. I had to see, Bella."

Taking pity on him, I stepped forward and slid my arms around his waist.

"Two futures," I mumbled, Alice's visions suddenly making sense to me. "You had two futures. We couldn't work out what it meant, Alice and I, but it was because your decision depended on whether I was really dead or not, wasn't it?"

"If you truly were..." He couldn't say it. "Then I would have asked the Volturi to end my life."

I leaned back and stared into his black eyes; he needed to hunt. "And if not? If I wasn't, then what?"

Edward pulled back out of our embrace and I whimpered as our bodies lost contact with each other. He took my hands though, maintaining at least some contact.

"I tried to stay away, Bella, for your sake, but I couldn't have done it for much longer. If I had returned and found you alive..."

"Like now," I interrupted.

"Like now," he agreed. "Then I would have told you that I couldn't stay away from you, that I couldn't stand to be apart from you any longer, and then I would've begged you to forgive me and take me back."

His sincerity was clear to see, as was his doubt that I would believe him.

"Bella," he whispered, "can you ever forgive me?"

Could I forgive him?

He was back. He had come back to me. There was nothing to forgive.

"Only if you make me another promise."

"Anything," he vowed.

"I'll forgive you as long as you don't make the same mistakes again. Don't leave me again for my own good. Promise me that you'll stay this time, with me, forever. It was always supposed to be forever, Edward, and you need to promise me that this time you'll let us get there."

Shuffling closer again, he rested his forehead against me.

"I promise never to leave you again, Bella. I promise to give you forever."

...

We were lying in the meadow, stretched out on a blanket while the sun warmed us. My eyes were closed as Edward read Shakespeare to me, the distant sound of birdsong and the nearby stream providing a pleasant background to the sound of his voice.

I frowned as he got towards the end of the play and sat up abruptly, grabbing the book and tossing it to one side.

He looked up peacefully at me. "Did you not want to hear the ending?"

"No." I snuggled back down next to him, throwing my leg over his hip. "Why should I? I already know that Romeo got it wrong."

He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the crown of my head. "He did indeed. But at least we didn't."

I smiled at that. At least we didn't.


End file.
